


The Lighthouse Keeper and the Mermaid

by Crazy4U



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Aid, Inspired by The Shape of Water (2017), Lighthouses, Little bit of graphic injuries, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 06:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy4U/pseuds/Crazy4U
Summary: Oz is a lighthouse keeper, living a life of peace and solitude, until one day when he finds an injured woman.  This woman is like no monster he had ever seen.  Mermaids are just a legend, aren't they?





	The Lighthouse Keeper and the Mermaid

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank an_undead_gamer_45 for beta reading this fic, and for inspiring me to write more Monster Prom fics. This fandom is amazing, and I love it!  
> Also, this fic was intended to be a one shot, but I may continue it. Mainly I'm just really bad at writing endings.

The lighthouse had been on the island for over a hundred years, its tower weathered but still it stood proud. The sky was overcast from the previous night's storm, but light still glimmered on the horizon. The lighthouse keeper awoke, having slept well being lulled to sleep by the storm. Oz was still a young man, and normally someone his age wouldn't want a job like this. One away from people, where going to town was an all day affair and involved taking a small boat to the mainland. Oz didn't mind. He liked the solitude.

His friends hadn't been so excited about it. They were kind of right. It was far out of the way, so it was hard for him to see any of them, even though they all lived in town. Maybe he was an idiot for living out here. It was just just didn't want to deal with people, or all the things that could go wrong in the city. Like a car accident or identity theft.

Oz got out of bed, not bothering to make it. His room wasn't large, a bed, desk, some shelves, it was little more than a place to sleep. When he wasn't walking the beach, he preferred spending time in his library. That had been one of the main reasons he had wanted to move here.

Even though last night's storm hadn't been anything special, Oz knew he had to check the tower for damage. He got dressed, put on his shoes, and made his way outside. After making a half circle around the lighthouse, he did not see anything out of place. In fact, it looked like all of the shingles were there, not a single one had fallen off in the night. That was lucky.

One of his phobias appeared, and nuzzled him. He reached up, and gave it a pat on the head.

“Everything is fine, buddy. Now let's take a walk.” Oz said.

It made a tiny noise only he could hear.

“Beach glass? Yeah, this is the right time to look for it. You'll never know what the sea churns up after a storm.” Oz said.

The beach was peaceful, dotted with driftwood and specks of beach glass. Oz wished he had brought a basket with him, but he settled for letting his phobia carry the nicest pieces. They did like shiny things. The island had lot of beach, as well as many rock formations. He once found a cave that went deep into the rocks, but he decided not to go in. It was just too risky.

Oz turned the bend, going under a natural arch in the cliff face. This area was amazing, with tide pools and rocks, it was one of his favorite places on the island. He wasn't expecting to find what he saw. Something had washed up ashore, something blue and pink.

Oz froze, unsure of what to do. Should he leave? Was it garbage? If it was, he should at least take care of it, but what if it was hazardous? That was so scary, but then it'd mean he would have to do something? He inched closer, and saw that, at least the blue part, looked to be a fish’s tail. Was it just a large fish that got caught up in some trash? He saw large dead fish wash ashore, and it usually smelled worse than this.

Hands shaking, Oz got closer. The pink stuff was confusing him. It was long and silky, floating in the water like neon seaweed. It didn't look like trash, but it didn't look natural. The thing gave a twitch, nearly causing Oz to fall back on his rump. It was alive, the thing was alive! Even if his panicked haze, Oz's vision locked onto something under the water. A hand, a humanoid hand attached to a humanoid arm that was attached to what ever had washed up ashore.

Gathering his courage, Oz went to the person, and gently flipped them over, so he could see their face. If he wasn't so weary he would have blushed from how pretty she was. Large blue eyes opened, unfocused at first, then taking him in.

“Where am I?” The voice was soft, weak even.

“Well this area is called-” Oz because.

“I'm on the surface?” The creature cried out, her hand going to her middle.

“Yeah- What's wrong?”

Oz looked down to see blood smeared on her hands. She was wounded. He had to help her!

“I'm going to take you to a place where I can help you, ma'am.” Oz stammered, hands raised so she could see he wasn't armed.

“My name is Miranda! You are taking me some place to recover?” She asked, her voice gaining strength.

“It's not a real doctor's office, but I do know a thing or two. You need to get that wound looked at.” Oz said.

“Alright. I will accept your help. Please carry me.” She ordered.

Oz did not think he could lift another person, especially not someone with a large fish tail. The monster body was an amazing thing though and could perform miracles under the right circumstances. He gently lifted her in a bridal carry, supporting her back with one arm, and her large tail in the other. Each yard felt like a mile, and by the time Oz reached his front door, he felt like he would collapse. The only thing keeping him going was the beautiful woman clutched against his chest, and the fact that he needed to help her.

Once they were inside, his phobias helping him open the door, Oz headed to the bathroom, the one with the large claw foot bathtub. The shadowman gently lowered her into the bathtub, his back and legs screaming at him with every moment.

“This is hard.” Miranda whimpered as Oz shifted, trying to stretch away his back pain.

“Sorry, let me get some water for you.” He said.

Turning the tap on, Oz tested the water. He wanted it to be warm, but not hot. Miranda didn't fit completely in the bathtub, her tail hung out nearly a yard, the fin touching the floor. Her body was against the back of the tub, but her shoulders were tense. She looked uncomfortable, and she was also in pain from her injuries. Oz noticed more and more scratches on her body, and it made him wonder what had happened to it. Where there sea monsters out there?

“Is this water okay?” Oz asked.

“It will do.” Miranda said.

Would she be comfortable? Would his first aid skills be good enough? Would she be able to breath? Worrying was such a natural part of Oz, but it made it so hard for him to act. Should he just call for Vicky to come? He knew he could trust her, she was his closest friend and a doctor, but it would take her all day to come. The phobia on his shoulder gave a small chitter. No, he had to do this on his own.

Oz got the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. Opening it up he made sure everything was there. Bandages, gauze, needle, threat, a lighter, some cream for burns, painkillers and a small bottle of antiseptic. Everything was there. Oz took the glass he had on the sink counter and filled it with some water. He handed it to Miranda, along with two pills.

“This should dull the pain. Just swallow the pill and drink the water.” He said.

“You have not even told me your name.” She sounded more offended than upset.

“Oh! I'm so sorry. I'm Oz.”

Miranda took the pills and washed them down with the water. It would take a little while for them to take effect, so now Oz would wash the wound and assess the damage. Only now did it truly don on Oz that he had a naked girl in his bathtub. He blushed, glad that her hair was conveniently covering her very nice breasts, and quickly returned his attention to the task at hand.

Wetting a clean washcloth in the bath's faucet, he cleaned off the smaller cuts. She was missing some scales and there was quite a bit of bruising, but nothing seemed too bad. Not until he got to the wound on her stomach. Reluctantly, she moved her hands, bringing them to her collar. The gash was long, and a small half inch part was deep.

Oz's vision blurred. He took a deep breath, knowing he couldn't pass out here. He had to help her! Opening his eyes again, he saw the wound wasn't dangerously deep, it didn't seem to go past the muscle, but it definitely needed stitches. Oz washed the cloth off in the sink, then poured some antiseptic on it.

He kneeled down next to the bath once more. “This is going to sting a little.”

Miranda's eyes were wide, but she nodded.

“Can I ask what happened?” Oz asked, hoping that if she talked it would take mind off the pain.

“Me and my sisters were out, and I spotted the most beautiful fish! The creature was so fast and majestic I had to follow it. Only too late did I realize I was so close to the surface, and that the sea had gotten so dangerous.” Miranda explained.

That made sense. The ocean was rocky, hence the lighthouse. Someone being caught in a storm like that, even an amazing swimmer would be tossed around like a sock in the washing machine. It was lucky she had gotten off with only one major wound.

“Do you know how long you were on the surface?” Oz asked.

Miranda only winced a few times, until he brought the cloth to her larger wound. She shut her eyes, her delicate mouth drawn in a frown.

“A- are you okay?” Oz panicked. “I'm almost done!”

“It hurts! ...And smells bad.” Miranda whimpered.

“It's almost over, I promise! Now your cuts wont get infected.” Oz told her.

“I wish I had my medical serf with me.” Miranda sighed.

“I just have to stitch the wound closed. It will hurt a little.” Oz told her, preparing the needle and thread.

“Will it hurt as much as the stuff in the bottle?” Miranda asked, bringing a hand to her mouth.

“It's not a sharp pain. I've had to be stitched up more than a few times, so I know what I'm talking about.” Oz said.

Using his free hand, he undid a few buttons on his shirt, exposing his collarbone and a long gray scar that extended down his chest. Oz was not expecting Miranda to reach out and touch him, her fingertips gracefully tracing along the scar. He blushed again, shivering slightly.

“Did you do this?” Miranda asked.

“Well, my friend Vicky stitched it up.” Oz said.

Miranda brought her hand back. “Continue.” 

With a new sense of purpose, Oz brought the needle to her wound. The room felt hot, too hot, and his stomach was churning. Oh no. Was he going to hurl? Miranda's soft cry broke him out of it. He had to stay strong, she was the one who was actually suffering. Oz quietly encouraged and praised her, giving her wound five stitches, then closing the knot. He trimmed the threat with a small pair of scissors, then got some gauze.

“The hard part is over.” Oz said, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm. “How are you holding up?”

Miranda was pale, but she gave him a small smile. “I just want to sleep.”

“Just let me cover your stitches and I'll let you sleep as long as you want.” Oz told her.

He used the medical tape to secure the gauze over her stitches. He knew he would have to check them later, and it was important the change the dressing too. Would he be needing more gauze? Maybe he should pay Vicky a visit if he had to go into town. But would Miranda be okay on her own?

“There we go. It'll let you sleep now, Miranda.” Oz said.

The mermaid shifted in the bath, going on her left side, the side that was uninjured, her arm under her head. She was frowning, no doubt in discomfort. Oz got a clean towel, still folded and held it near her head.

“Use this as a pillow. It should feel better.” Oz said.

Miranda let him slide the towel under her head, and snuggled into it, smiling. He liked it, seeing her smile, especially after what he made her endure. Oz watched her a moment, before realizing she was asleep. He turned the light off, but left the door open just a little.

Cupboards were flung open as Oz looked through his kitchen, trying to locate something he could cook for his guest. Normally, Oz would just have some toast with jam, and if he was feeling particularly crazy, have a banana on the side. Now, he had someone he wanted to impress. Where was his cookbook? He was sure he had one of them. After scouring the lower cupboards, which either had pots and pans or potatoes, Oz found the cookbook over his icebox style fridge. It was old, and covered in dust, but Oz sat down at the kitchen's island and began to flip through it.

There was the question of what mermaids eat. Would it be fish? Both mermaids and fish were in the ocean. Though both mermaids and fish were similar, so was it like cannibalism? Oz landed on a page about cooking eggs. Maybe that would be alright, hard boiling them. That was he could make them and she could eat them when she woke up.

By the time Oz had made the eggs, it was already past lunch. He sat down on his stool at the kitchen island, looking over the half dozen eggs he had cooked. Maybe it would be okay to eat one? Just to make sure he had made them alright. He peeled the egg, like it showed in the book, and bit into it. It wasn't great, but it wasn't really bad.

It was about time he should check in on Miranda, see if she was awake and hungry. He walked to she bathroom, and peeked in the door. She was still sleeping in the bathtub. Oz's gaze softened. It made him so happy seeing he, before the guilt hit him like a semi truck. It wasn't right, feeling good about her misfortune.

He spent the rest of the evening tidying his home and reading in the living room slash library. The bathroom wasn't an issue, because there was a water closet located close to his bedroom, and he'd showed the night before. Hopefully she would be well enough to get out of the bathtub in a few days, just long enough for him to wash. If not, he might have to just use the sink, or maybe he'd be able to fit into the bath with her. He blushed at this thought.

The light from the window was changing to a reddish hue, it was almost night time. Oz put his book (The History of Avocado Farmers) down on the table, and walked to the window. The western sky was a lovely shade of pink, it would be a clear night. Still, he had his duties as a lighthouse keeper.

He headed to the top of the lighthouse. It was a little early to turn on the light, but he loved looking out at the sea during sunset. The room was very simple, with nothing but the lamp, but the walls were made entirely of windows, giving him an amazing view. The ocean glittered in the distance, and he wondered if maybe Miranda's sisters were out there. Maybe someday he would see them, or maybe after Miranda left he would only catch glimpses of them from the tower of the lighthouse.

The sorrow he felt at the thought of her leaving filled him with guilt. He was just attracted to her, it wasn't love at first sight. This wasn't a fairy tale, where you could meet your soul mate in a single afternoon. He shouldn't feel this strongly about someone he had just met. This is why he liked living in solitude. When he was alone he didn't have to worry about hurting or being a burden on others.

He turned on the light, and headed back down the tower. Would Miranda finally be awake? Or maybe she would sleep through the night. Oz went to the bathroom, but froze. The door was wide open, showing a completely empty bathroom. The bathtub was completely empty, no water, and more importantly, no Miranda.

Oz's eyes widened. Where had she gone? She couldn't get far on just a tail, or even just pulling herself around with her arms. Had someone broke in? He hadn't even known mermaids were real this morning, so it made sense that they would be rare and valuable.

Nearly stumbling several times, Oz ran to the front door, only to find it shut. There weren't even footprints in the sand outside. If no one had broken in, then where was she? Oz looked through the kitchen, which was empty, then went into his living room.

His living room was the largest room in the house, since it also held the library, which was just a wall of shelves. There was no TV, just a large, boxy radio, a couple of chairs, a desk, coffee table, and couch. On that couch was Miranda, who looked much more comfortable.

A million things boiled inside Oz's mind. She was okay, that was most important. She had legs. How? She was on his couch, completely naked. Oz's hands shot up, covering his eyes.

“Miranda, y- you're okay.” He managed to sputter.

“There you are! This is much more comfortable than that tub.” Miranda said, her voice chiding.

“I'll get you some clothes.” Oz said, attempting to slink away.

“First you will get me some food.” Miranda ordered. “I'm positively famished!”

She was right. She hadn't eaten since at least before Oz found her. He could worry about her modesty later. He went to the kitchen, and prepared her some food. He peel two eggs, and decided to add a banana. Oz returned to the living room, and focusing on the plate, set it down on the coffee table in front of her.

“Ohh! Is that an egg!” Miranda cried. “Two of them?”

Oz's heart beat increased. Had made the right decision? Finally! He was doing something right! He unbuttoned his cardigan, at least she could wear this until he found something. ...And he'd never be able to wear it again...

“These are a delicacy-! Oh!” Miranda sounded delighted.

“Put this on until I can find you some proper clothes, please.” Oz said, giving her the shirt.

She placed it around her shoulders, which was good enough for now. She gave him a smile, but he could see her gaze on his chest. She was checking him out? Oz felt both confused, flattered with a dash of embarrassment. He turned to leave the room so she could eat in peace.

“I'm going to find you something else to wear. Then I'll take a look at your stitches.” Oz said.

Oz went to his room, and opened his wardrobe. He was sure he had a bathrobe, one he hardly ever used. As long as it wasn't dirty he could give it to Miranda. It was right there on the inside of the door. He gave it a sniff. It smelled alright. He had probably washed it but hadn't worn it in a while. Oz also got one of his spare blankets, since the couch only had a scratchy quilt draped over the back.

Would it be better if she slept in his bed, and he slept on the couch? No, the living room was on the first floor, and closer to the kitchen. That and she seemed to have already claimed it as her own. He made a quick stop by the bathroom, getting the first aid kit. Oz returned, finding her standing in front of his wall of shelves.

“You found the books?” Oz asked.

“Books? What are they?” Miranda asked.

He felt a little stupid. “Yeah, you wouldn't have books in the sea... Well, they store information and stories in them. And you can experience their contents whenever you want.”

“Ohhh! Like a tiny bard.” Miranda said.

She picked one at random, and looked through the pages. This one was a book of fairy tales, he could tell by the illustrations. Miranda's brows were furrowed as she looked at the pictures and words.

“What are these?” She asked, pointing at the print.

“Words. That's how we get the stories.” Oz said. “Maybe I could teach you?”

“I hope you do not find this tiring. Like I'm a child.” Miranda said.

“Absolutely not. You just don't really understand surface life. I'm sure I'd need your help if I went into the ocean. You know, if I could go into the ocean.” Oz said.

Miranda gave a small smile. “It's possible. I would love to show you my palace.”

“Palace?” Oz echoed.

“I'm sure father would treat you like an honored guest, even if you are a commoner.” Miranda continued.

“Commoner?” Or repeated.

A picture was forming. A very big picture, one that was so big Oz didn't know how to deal with it, or even its complete ramifications.

“I mean, you were able to tell I am a princess.” Miranda said.

Oz bowed, as low as he could. “I'm so sorry if I did anything wrong, your highness! Please don't destroy anyone!”

Miranda began to laugh softy. It was such a sweet laugh.

“You've treated me so well, you've even given me such a delicacy to eat.” Miranda said.

Oz looked back up at her, only to realize she was still barely covered by his cardigan. He held up the robe, hiding behind it.

“P- Please put this on.” He managed.

“Hmm... Why don't you put it on for me?” And with that there was the soft sound of his cardigan hitting the floor.

Oz blushed, averting his eyes. “Isn't it a crime for a commoner to see the body of a royal?”

“But my proper serfs are not here, so you will have to care for me.” Miranda said.

“A- Alright. Please lift your arms.” Oz instructed.

Miranda did so obediently and he slid the sleeves over her arms until the robe was snugly over her shoulders. She touched the fabric and smiled. Oz couldn't help but enjoy it, her smile was just too cute.

“How about I read you a story from that book?” Oz suggested. “After I change your bandages. Don't worry, it won't hurt this time.”

They went to the couch, and the robe was big enough Oz could look at her stomach while the garment maintained her modesty. Though he did place his cardigan over her lap. That was one thing he would never be wearing again.

“It looks good.” Oz said.

He wasn't as smart as Vicky, but he did remember when she taught him, especially since it had been his own wounds. Miranda now had a fresh bandage, though Oz could see the gauze was running low. Maybe he'd have to go into town tomorrow.

“So, how did you get... Those?” Oz asked, looking down at her legs.

“These?” Miranda asked, lifting a leg and wiggling her toes. “My kind can have legs, if we're completely dry.”

“Did I mess up by putting you in the bathtub?” Oz asked.

“It takes lots of energy to transform.” Miranda said. “So I'm glad I could rest before I did it. For now, I should stay in this form.”

Her saying the word 'stay' made his heart race. He wasn't being selfish, she needed a safe place to rest. Oz sat back on the floor, his back to her.

“You can stay as long as you want. Why don't I read you a story?” Oz said.

He could hear Miranda clap. “Yes! Tell me one of your surface stories.”

Oz flipped through the contents, looking for a promising story. He honestly didn't remember buying this book, though he had a lot, so he couldn't be expected to remember how he had gotten them all. Maybe it had been a gift?

“How about The Little Mermaid?” Oz asked. “Or would that be boring?”

“I've always wondered what tales land dwellers tell of us. Please, continue!” Miranda said.

Oz began to read the story, of the mermaid who fell in love with the prince. He began to imagine himself as the prince and Miranda as the mermaid, even though in the story she was the one who saved him. The mermaid gave up for voice to be with the prince, only to discover that he was already in love with another woman. By that point, he stopped imagining himself as the prince.

“That's so sad. I'm so sorry.” Oz said, his eyes tearing up.

“I don't understand.” Miranda said, her voice was quiet. “Why didn't she just stab him? If I were in her position, he would be dead. Especially if my sisters had come.”

“Well, stories like this aren't meant to be taken literally.” Oz explained.

“Literally?” It was Miranda's turn to echo him.

“It's supposed to teach you a lesson. That the mermaid loved him so much she wanted him to be happy, so she couldn't hurt him.” Oz said.

Miranda was quiet. The room was quiet as the two thought. Oz felt kind of stupid, that he didn't read the story beforehand and make sure it wouldn't upset her. Though he would have thought the “every step she took on her human feet was like walking on knives and broken glass” would have upset her more. He was also sure one of his old classmates would be better at explaining the moral of the story, but then he'd probably go on a tirade about the author's sexuality and the ethics of whaling.

“I'm not sure I could what the girl in the story did.” Miranda said.

“I hope you never have to make a decision like that.” Oz said.

Oz was taken aback by her arms enveloping him, and her hugging him from behind. He blushed, feeling her rest her chin on his shoulder. Oh yeah, he still wasn't wearing a shirt, he could feel her soft skin against his along with her silky hair which was being draped over him.

“So that means you'll stay by my side?”

“You've only met me this morning.” Oz said.

“We can be friends, right? Maybe someday you could be my lover?” Miranda said.

She was so straightforward. He reached up, touching her hand, the one that was resting on his shoulder. Miranda nuzzled against his hair, making him shiver.

“I want to get to know you better.” Oz said. “Maybe meet your family, see your world?”

“I would love that.” Miranda said.

Oz didn’t know what was going to happen. Yesterday life was so predictable, comfortably so, but he didn’t feel sad. Excited, nervous, a little scared, but that was normal for him. He knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t take this chance. 

It was a beautiful day. Vicky sat on the porch behind her house, enjoying the way the sun shone on the sea. The house itself wasn't huge, but being waterfront property made it prime real estate. Thankfully her salary as a doctor helped her afford it, though her husband was more excited about the huge yard and the fact that he could jog along the beach every morning. Normally Vicky would have joined Scott, but she felt like relaxing. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warm sun on her pale skin.

“Anyone home?” A quiet voice called from the front of the house.

Vicky opened her eyes, bolting upright in her seat. “Who's there?”

Was it someone who needed medical attention? That did happen sometimes, but only in emergencies. The voice sounded so calm though, too calm for it to be urgent. She set her coffee down on the patio table, wondering who it could be.

“It's me!” Oz said, stepping out from behind the house into view.

Vicky was immediately on him, gripping him in a tight hug. He wobbled a little, driven off balance by his much smaller friend.

“It's not Thursday! What are you doing here?” Vicky asked.

She pulled away enough to see his face. Something seemed different about Oz, but Vicky couldn't put her finger on it.

“I had some things I needed to buy.” Oz said. “And I thought I should say hello.”

“You should have called. I would have baked a cake! Or at least made some coffee, actually I just made some, would you like a mug?” Vicky asked.

He didn't have time to say no, she went inside and prepared him a cup. Two spoons of sugar, milk, just the way he liked it. When she came back, he was sitting down. Gratefully, Oz took the coffee.

“You and Scott are doing alright?” Oz asked.

“Things have been going great.” Vicky said. “Can you believe it's been three years?”

“No way!” Oz said, with friendly incredulity.

“One more month!” Vicky beamed.

“Wow, time goes by so fast.” Oz said.

“I can't ask you about your love life, since you live in the middle of nowhere.” Vicky teased, then it dawned on her. “Did you meet someone?”

Oz went quiet. That was it, she hit the nail on the head. Vicky leaned in closer, ready to take in every detail.

“Well, it's kind of complicated, maybe you can meet her someday?” Oz said, gazing at his coffee to avoid Vicky's gaze.

“She? So they're a lady? Anyone I know?” Vicky pushed.

“I don't think so. She's a little different.” Oz said.

“Tell me! Tell me all about her!” Vicky cried, tugging Oz's arm.

“I need to meet her parents first. But after that, I promise you can meet her!” Oz said.

Vicky studied him. Oz's hands were clutched tightly around the coffee cup, his brows furrowed. He seemed very serious, and a little stressed.

“You'd better keep that promise.” Vicky said.

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you knew anyone who could watch the lighthouse for a while. Maybe a few weeks even?” Oz asked.

“I'll have to see around town.” Vicky said. “So where are you going?”

“I'm not sure. I'm sorry for being so cryptic.” Oz said, shoulders slumping.

“That's how you've always been. I know that once you have everything sorted out, you'll share everything with me... And invite me to the wedding?” Vicky said with a smirk.

Oz blushed. “V-Vicky!”

“And ask me for advice for the wedding night? I am a married woman after all.”

“Vicky!”

“And then ask me to babysit the kids! Oh! Maybe our kids can be friends!”

“Vicky! Stop!” Oz's shoulders were shaking slightly.

Vicky stopped, eyes wide. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”

Oz was quiet as Vicky touched his arm. He still still shaking slightly, a tear running down his face. Vicky's chest tightened. Something was wrong.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm just... A little overwhelmed.” Oz said. “So much is happening, but I'm really happy too.”

Vicky's expression softened, and she reached up to pet Oz's hair. Oz took a long gulp of his coffee, and put the mug down. He wiped the tears from his face, and tried to give her a brave look.

“I felt the same when I married Scott. ...And when I became a doctor. Sometimes it just feels like your world is shifting completely, and there's a million things to do. You'll get through it.” Vicky said.

“You're so cool.” Oz said. “I'm not like you at all.”

“Oz. You're a great guy, and strong in your own way. I know you're going to make it through this. I'm so proud of you for not running away.” Vicky said.

Oz touched her hand. “Thank you Vicky. I should go though.”

“Alright. Tell your lady friend I said hello. I can't wait to meet her.” Vicky said, then smirked. “When I do, I'll tell her all about the embarrassing things you've done!”

“Vicky!” Oz whined.

“I'm kidding! ...Or am I?”

Oz left soon after. Despite how shaken he was he also looked happy, quite possibly the happiest Vicky had seen him in a while. What if she went to his house, took a boat over to the island in the middle of the night? No, that would be mean, intruding on him like that. Still, she was very interested in his companion.

She turned, hearing the gate to their backyard creek open. Scott gave her a smile, then lifted his head, furrowing his brow in concentration.

“Oz was here?” Scott stated.

“Yeah. He was just visiting. How was your jog?” Vicky asked. 

He sat down next to her, looking contented from his work out. Vicky couldn’t help but give his belly a rub. Scott’s next words caught her off guard.

“So where’s the fish he brought?” Scott asked, excited.

“Fish?” Vicky asked, brow raised.

“Yeah. It smells super fresh too… Kinda weird though.” Scott said. 

Vicky opened her mouth, maybe Scott had gotten injured on his run. It wasn’t burning toast, but it could still be the result of a head injury. She stopped. Maybe it had been her friend who just left, or at least, his new companion. He was on an island after all, and who knew what sort of monsters were out there. The ocean was still a mystery after all.


End file.
